


bruises. {ziam}

by sweetcreature (attemptedmxrder)



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician), liam payne - Fandom, ziam - Fandom
Genre: Abuse, Child Abuse, M/M, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 00:43:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11047749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/attemptedmxrder/pseuds/sweetcreature
Summary: the abused and the abuser- i have been both.





	1. warnings

this story will contain great details of abuse and anorexia, along with self harm and sexual assault.

please do not proceed to read if any of the above may trigger you.

I will not which chapters have sexual assault, as that will not be in near all chapters. if you decide to still read, you may proceed to the first chapter.


	2. one

zayn stands in the bathroom, his body shaking and his lips trembling. he tries to keep the sobs escaping his lips from being audible, not knowing if his husband is awake still or not.

he peels off his clothing from his body, letting it hit the floor as he hisses at the fabric scaling over his back. allowing the rest of his clothing to be placed with his shirt, he glances into the mirror at his reflection and let's out a sigh.

perfect, that's all he wants. by he, zayn means his husband. perfect job, perfect house, perfect son, perfect husband. zayn tries, he tries to be perfect for liam.

turning to the side, he pokes at his abdomen and runs his other hand through his hair with frustration. fat. too fat to be perfect. guess we aren't eating tomorrow, he thinks to himself.

he hears the water running into the tub behind him, and he looks down into the marble sink as he closes his eyes.

a knock on the door startles him, and he nearly falls from loosing his grip on the counter top. looking up into his own eyes, he reaches over to turn the lock to let the other man inside.

liam walks in and shakes his head as he turns the knobs to the bath off, his other hand grabbing the younger ones wrist and turning him around to press his back to the counter.

the look in his eyes wasn't like what it was two years ago, full of love and adoration for the raven haired man. zayn closed his eyes and prepared himself for the hit he knew he would receive and he did.

a hard hand collided with his right cheek, leaving a burning sensation and a red handprint in its wake. he gulped, withholding the sob that was so desperately wanting to escape. he opened his eyes, and only when his husbands' voice rang through his ears.

"you know the fucking rules, you worthless bitch. no more than half the tub of water. do we look like we are made of money, piece of shit? how the fuck did I marry you," the man spat into his face, the anger radiating in the words that pass through his lips.

zayn nods, not knowing what else to do and the man twists his fingers into his hair, pulling on it roughly and commanding him to speak.

"yes, sir. I'm sorry I forgot," he chokes out, trying not to show his fear in the syllables coming from his lips. he knew that would only get him hit again, and his eyes were already red with tears threatening to escape.

liam then smiles, and gives him a kiss to the forehead before walking away to their shared room. that's what zayn didn't understand, his husband was always so sweet and gentle with him until he did something wrong or something liam deemed imperfect.

the word why kept circulating through his mind as he sank into the warm water of the tub, and zayn knew he would never question liam about it. he just needed to be perfect - liam would love him if he was just perfect.


	3. two.

the next morning, zayn woke up before his husband sleeping on the mattress beside him - and, slowly, but gently, moved the mans' arm off and away from his torso. glancing back behind him to make sure he hadn't awoke liam, he stood and slid his feet into his slippers.

as he did so, he thought about how his life would be if he wasn't with liam. how it would be if he just gave up on the man and realized he would never change, just left him the first chance he got.

zayn wouldn't dare, though. the sleeping boy in the next room absolutely adored his dad, and zayn wouldn't strip that away from him. take the beatings, zayn, he told himself. just take them and your little boy won't ever have to.

and, that's what he did. every night, after their son had gone to bed, he would strip himself of every article of clothing on his tan skin and take every hit, every sting the man decided to give him.

he would take a million hits over one hit bestowed onto his son. that boy, that small innocent boy, he was the reason zayn hadn't ended that night last may. he was the reason zayn was standing there, in his bathroom, smiling sadly to his reflection as he twirled the transformers toothbrush in his hand.

he remembered that night all too well, it was one of his husbands bad nights. a bad night was when liam was drunk, had been partying out all night with his friends to come staggering in the front door, alcohol reeking on his breath.

that was the night liam forced himself onto zayn for the first time, but certainly not the last.

it felt like it never stopped, though it was only every other night. their little boy would spend the night at one of liam's friends' house, most likely harry and liam wouldn't waste any time on getting drunk and completely humiliating zayn.

one night, he remembers so clear, he was made to strip down to his bare skin and had to let liam have him, and if he refused, he was made to sit on his knees in a kiddie pool full of rice.

the rice was stuck in his knees, blood cascading down his bare legs, it took everything he had not to scream out in pain. but, in fear of what the man would do to him next, he kept quiet.

sometimes, on a rare occasion, the frail boy didn't keep shut and maybe, once or twice, woke up the boy he tried so hard to protect. his husband would go into the room next to them, the walls painted baby blue from the happiest days of their life, when they brought the boy home for the first time, and would rock the boy back to sleep.

then, just as zayn would think it was over, that he had been inflicted enough pain for the night to last the week, liam would disappear into the locked room behind the house and pull zayn inside.

zayn was then beaten with the whip of his husbands choice, they had many to choose from. after liam saw fit that zayn was taken care of, he would lean down, and whisper in the gentlest voice he could muster, and speak the words zayn never wanted to hear come from his husbands mouth.

"you know that precious boy you love so much, yeah? I think he would be pretty like this. naked, shivering and afraid, just like you are right now. don't you think so, baby?"

the pet name felt like fire in zayn's mind, reminding him of the liam he fell in love with in high school, the one who thought it was better sounding to call him baby than what he considered old fashioned, such as darling and sweetheart.

zayn smiled at the memories of the happy times, but it soon came crashing down around him as he realized he needed to wake up his son.

he hated doing this, waking his son from the peaceful sleep and inviting him involuntarily into the wreck of their lives. he felt sorry for the boy, he didn't ask for this, to be pulled into the painful life that zayn knew would break his soul one day.

there were days when zayn considered it, considered taking the boy back to the orphanage they had taken him from, and leaving him there to find a better home. one that, maybe, didn't have secrets behinds closed doors.

one that he didn't see his father covered in bruises and placing makeup over them just to take him to his school in the morning.

one where he didn't have to sit up at night, watching with his innocent eyes out the window for his dad to come home and give his a hug and kiss hello, just to have the man push him away and stumble to the liquor cabinet on the other side of the dining room.

maybe, it wasn't too late. maybe, zayn could still make that choice, and give the boy a better life.

the man, thin and his ribs protruding through his skin, placed the toothbrush back into it's place on the holder and stared into the eyes of his own reflection. trying to tell himself something, but no where in his being could he understand what.

he shook his head dismissively, and slid his feet across the floor as he quietly stepped into his sons room.

"baby boy, wake up. time for school, bubba."

the little boy let out a low whine and pulled the covers over his head, hiding more in his bed and zayn let out a slow, soft chuckle.

he couldn't do it, selfish as he thought it was, he couldn't give back the child he dedicated his life to protecting. he wasn't going to.

in that moment, as he was running his hands along the form of his sons body under the sheets, he knew that this boy was the reason for keeping on, his reason for breathing on that very day. very moment.

that boy was all that mattered to him, his sons happiness and safety. even if he had to take the blow, it was never going to be his little boy with curly blonde hair.


	4. three

zayn sat on the couch in his living room, watching his best friend as the man paced the floor and shook with anger. well, his only friend. andy sometimes came over when liam was at work, and today didn't seem to be an exception. especially since when andy called, zayn was sitting on his bathroom floor and, due to a certain husband punching him, had a bloody nose and a black eye that was most likely not going to be covered by makeup.

 

the darker skinned man pulled his knees to his chest, looking like a young child who was being scolded. he was, actually, by andy and his raising his voice in fury like a blazing fire having gasoline poured upon it.

 

"you can't stay there, zayn. he's not who he was, he is not who you fell in love with. he's a monster, now. he's fueled by the alcohol in his veins and the sick images in his mind. he's not a father to that boy, and it's a matter of time until he lays a hand on him. he won't forgive you for that, not leaving that monster. you're going to scar that child for the rest of his life," he lowered his voice as he spoke, running his hands up his tattooed arms, sighing as he looked at zayn.

 

zayn didn't know what to say, so instead of saying anything, he sat still as the tears brimmed in his eyes and looked up at the angry man in front of him. he suddenly winced, sharp pains shooting through his stomach like hard lightning and he let out a loud ear-piercing scream at the sudden feeling. 

 

andy's face fell, and he reached down to pull up the smaller man before he hit the ground. dialing the local emergency services, he positioned zayn into his lap and tilted his head up, just to be met with dull eyes and he genuinely couldn't tell if it was from the pain or if the man had nothing left of him to force himself to have that light in his eyes. 

 

later that night, after zayn had returned home and came to discover the sleeping child on the couch of the living room, he removed his shirt in the bedroom mirror and turned to the side. he didn't see the grotesque bones, sticking out with his skin so tight on them that the ribs could pierce through if they so wished to. 

 

he saw fat, rolls upon rolls of the hideous mass upon his stomach and he couldn't help but wish to go into the kitchen and remove it with the kitchen shears. as he shifted to look forward at the mirror, though, he glanced at the dark bruises on his lower abdomen and the visit to the hospital flashed in his mind.

 

"please, andy, don't say a word about it. just tell them," zayn looked around to make sure no nurses were where they could hear him before finishing his sentence, "just tell them we went skateboarding and i got hurt when i fell off." 

 

andy was trying to get him to tell the truth, to get liam arrested and put away before he hurt zayn again or damon. andy loved damon like a son, more than his own father did. he spends time with him and buys him expensive gifts, but he doesn't love him. you don't hurt the ones you love. beating zayn, hurting zayn, in turn, was hurting that little boy. 

 

the doctor ended up prescribing some pain medication, along with giving him a lecture about skateboarding on hills, although zayn didn't actually really even know how to ride one. but, the doctor didn't need to know that bit of information.

 

zayn immediately looked up towards the bedroom door as he heard the front door slam, and he moved quickly to pull the shirt back over his head and hid the pill bottles from his, most likely, drunk husband. he stood at the door patiently after making sure there was nothing in the room out of place, holding a bottle of aspirin and a water bottle. 

 

he would be sleeping in the guest room tonight, as he always did when liam came home late at night, drunk out of his mind. he heard a large crash, and the wail of a small child made him place the contents in his hands onto the bed as he quickly walked downstairs. 

 

what he found was his son, scared out of his mind at the crash, curled up onto one side of the couch and staring into the kitchen, frightened. zayn sighed, pressing a kiss to the boys' forehead and slowly making his way into the kitchen to find a broken plate on the floor and his husband, with an equally as drunken woman pressed against the counter.

 

he couldn't help but look down her body, not in lust or want, but he admired her thin figure and wrapped his arms around himself self-consciously as he backed out of the room. he would have to clean that plate up before the morning or liam would take the anger out on him of the hangover, but he couldn't be in there while his husband was being unfaithful. 

but really, was it unfaithful when the person they are lusting over is more perfect than you'll ever be, and to your husband, you're nothing? when you're nothing but a disgusting ball of fat, it shouldn't be considered that you are even anything of worth.

 

at least, that's what liam told him the first time zayn caught him. and the second, along with the third and fourth and so much more that zayn had lost track. he knew it was okay, what that woman and his husband were doing, because at least she is actually wanted by the man who didn't even bother to take her to a hotel. 

 

zayn looked down at his hand, at the ring on his finger that used to represent love and unity, but now all it is is a reminder that the man in the kitchen was supposed to be his, but he's with a woman who is moaning obscenely and the other ring is shoved somewhere deep inside a drawer upstairs because liam didn't care about the promises they made any more. 

 

and, neither did zayn, honestly.


	5. four

he flipped through the pages, scanning over the photographs with his eyes and fingertips skimming down the sides of the pictures behind the small screen of thin plastic.

 

"baby boy, i can't imagine living life without you," liam continued as he held zayn to his own body, "and i never think i could ever love anyone else. you're the only one i have ever wanted, ever since i knew i liked guys, babe. "

 

zayn let out a small chuckle, wrapping his thin arms around the bigger mans' neck, "didn't you say i was the reason you found out you were gay?" liam smiled, pressing a small kiss to zayns' nose, "i did, yes."

 

liam coughed, pulling his body away and fiddling in his pockets for some time, looking up frantic, "uhm, hold on a moment." 

 

a little boy approached the raven haired man, giggling to himself and help up his hand, an object in it that zayn couldn't detect what it was. zayn reached down and took it from the boys' hand, seeing it was a little cardboard box that opened up and was painted red, just like it was the same shade of his tattoo on his arm.

 

the man opened it up, smiling at the ring inside and he asked the boy where it came from. 

 

"that man that was just talking to you, he helped with my castle and it fell next to my knight. mommy said to take it to him but he walked away."

 

zayn looked in the direction his boyfriend went, laughing and saying a goodbye and thank you to the small child, walking in the same direction. 

 

"baby, i found what you were looking for." he giggled out, he giggled when he got really hppy, he hated it but liam loved it.

 

zayn sighed, loved, emphasis on that. the past tense of it felt like a knife through his heart, and he looked down at the ring from his husband that would soon be home to most likely bet him once more for touching the old scrapbooks that liam and him had made together. 

 

they made them when the boy they call their son was being born, wanting to tell him of their love story, but zayn doubted there was any pictures since a few years ago. how would they explain that, why there was no pictures after a while? 'oh, your father beat me until i was bleeding and covered in bruises.'

 

zayn doubted that would go over well. besides, why would zayn ever say that when he felt it wasn't bad enough like that? zayn, the poor thing, he felt it wasn't bad enough to leve. liam treats their son well, liam buys their food and pays the rent. if it wasn't for that man, zayn and the boy would have nothing. 

 

though, liam wasn't a man, he was a coward. a man protects what is dear to him, not break them down to nothing just to keep them where they're his slaves for everything.

 

later that night, after liam came home and surprisingly to zayn, only hit him once. a slap in the face, not for the books, but for the dishes that were left not ran in the dishwasher. 

 

"you think you would have learned by now, you pathetic bastard, to do what the hell you are supposed to do," liam had said, after delivering a loud slap to the jaw of the shorter man.

 

but zayn, he didn't, he wasn't there enough to remember the simple things. he often forgot to check his childs' homework, because he just wanted to be perfect. maybe, if he was perfect, and pid attention to what he was to do, he would be enough for liam. at least, that's what his thoughts were at night when he was covering up the bruises in the bathroom so he could tuck his son into bed.


End file.
